Gentle Measures in the Management and Training of the Young by Jacob Abbott

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Egbert's mother said she was a little afraid about the one lump of sugarthat was left to him when he failed.

"The plan _may_ succeed," she said; "I am very willing that you should tryit; but I am afraid that when you are tempted to stop and play in the midstof your dressing, you will say, I shall have _one_ lump of sugar, at anyrate, and so will yield to the temptation. So perhaps it would be safer foryou to make the rule that you are not to have any sugar at all when youfail. Still, _perhaps_ your plan will succeed. You can try it and see. Ishould wish myself to have the punishment as slight as possible to producethe effect."

By such management as this, it is plain that Egbert is brought into actualco-operation with his mother in the infliction of a punishment to cure himof a fault. It is true, that making such an arrangement as this, and thenleaving it to its own working, would lead to no result. As in the case ofall other plans and methods, it must be strictly, firmly, and perseveringlyfollowed up by the watchful efficiency of the mother. We can not_substitute_ the action of the child for that of the parent in the work ofearly training, but we can often derive very great advantage by securinghis cooperation.

_Playful Punishments_.

So true is it that the efficacy of any mode of punishment consists in the_certainty of its infliction_, that even playful punishments are in manycases sufficient to accomplish the cure of a fault. George, for example,was in the habit of continually getting into disputes and mild quarrelswith his sister Amelia, a year or two younger than himself. "I know it isvery foolish," he said to his mother, when she was talking with him on thesubject one evening after he had gone to bed, and she had been tellinghim a story, and his mind was in a calm and tranquil state. "It is veryfoolish, but somehow I can't help it. I forget."

"Then you must have some punishment to make you remember," said his mother.

"But sometimes _she_ is the one to blame," said George, "and then she musthave the punishment."

"No," replied his mother. "When a lady and a gentleman become involved ina dispute in polite society, it is always the gentleman that must beconsidered to be to blame."

"But Amelia and I are not polite society," said George.

"You ought to be," said his mother. "At any rate, when you, an olderbrother, get into disputes with your sister, it is because you have notsense enough to manage so as to avoid them. If you were a little older andwiser you would have sense enough."

"Well, mother, what shall the punishment be?" said George.

"Would you really like to have a punishment, so as to cure yourself of thefault?" asked his mother.

George said that he _would_ like one.

"Then," said his mother, "I propose that every time you get into a disputewith Amelia, you turn your jacket wrong side out, and wear it so a littlewhile as a symbol of folly."

George laughed heartily at this idea, and said he should like such apunishment as that very much. It would only be fun, he said. His motherexplained to him that it would be fun, perhaps, two or three times, butafter that it would only be a trouble; but still, if they decided upon thatas a punishment, he must submit to it in every case. Every time he foundhimself getting into any dispute or difficulty with his sister, he muststop at once and turn his jacket inside out; and if he did not himselfthink to do this, she herself, if she was within hearing, would simply say,"Jacket!" and then he must do it.

"No matter which of us is most to blame?" asked George.

"You will always be the one that is most to blame," replied his mother,"or, at least, almost always. When a boy is playing with a sister youngerthan himself, _he_ is the one that is most to blame for the quarrelling.His sister may be to blame by doing something wrong in the first instance;but he is the one to blame for allowing it to lead to a quarrel. If it is alittle thing, he ought to yield to her, and not to mind it; and if it isa great thing, he ought to go away and leave her, rather than to stop andquarrel about it. So you see you will be the one to blame for the quarrelin almost all cases. There may possibly be some cases where you will notbe to blame at all, and then you will have to be punished when you don'tdeserve it, and you must bear it like a man. This is a liability thathappens under all systems."

"We will try the plan for one fortnight," she continued. "So now remember,every single time that I hear you disputing or quarrelling with Amelia, youmust take off your jacket and put it on again wrong side out--no matterwhether you think you were to blame or not--and wear it so a few minutes.You can wear it so for a longer or shorter time, just as you think is bestto make the punishment effectual in curing you of the fault. By the end ofthe fortnight we shall be able to see whether the plan is working well anddoing any good."

"So now," continued his mother, "shut up your eyes and go to sleep. You area good boy to wish to cure yourself of such faults, and to be willing tohelp me in contriving ways to do it. And I have no doubt that you willsubmit to this punishment good-naturedly every time, and not make me anytrouble about it."

Let it be remembered, now, that the efficacy of such management as thisconsists not in the devising of it, nor in holding such a conversation asthe above with the boy--salutary as this might be--but in the _faithfulnessand strictness with which it is followed up_ during the fortnight of trial.

In the case in question, the progress which George made in diminishing histendency to get into disputes with his sister was so great that his mothertold him, at the end of the first fortnight, that their plan had succeeded"admirably"--so much so, she said, that she thought the punishment oftaking off his jacket and turning it inside out would be for the futureunnecessarily severe, and she proposed to substitute for it taking off hiscap, and putting it on wrong side before.

The reader will, of course, understand that the object of such anillustration as this is not to recommend the particular measure heredescribed for adoption in other cases, but to illustrate the spirit andtemper of mind in which all measures adopted by the mother in the trainingof her children should be carried into effect. Measures that involve nothreats, no scolding, no angry manifestations of displeasure, but are evenplayful in their character, may be very efficient in action if they arefirmly and perseveringly maintained.

_Punishments that are the Natural Consequence of the Offense_.

There is great advantage in adapting the character of the punishment tothat of the fault--making it, as far as possible, the natural and properconsequence of it. For instance, if the boys of a school do not come inpromptly at the close of the twenty minutes' recess, but waste five minutesby their dilatoriness in obeying the summons of the bell, and the teacherkeeps them for _five minutes beyond the usual hour of dismissal_, to makeup for the lost time, the punishment may be felt by them to be deserved,and it may have a good effect in diminishing the evil it is intendedto remedy; but it will probably excite a considerable degree of mentalirritation, if not of resentment, on the part of the children, which willdiminish the good effect, or is, at any rate, an evil which is to beavoided if possible.

If now, on the other hand, he assigns precisely the same penalty in anotherform, the whole of the good effect may be secured without the evil. Supposehe addresses the boys just before they are to go out at the next recess, asfollows:

"I think, boys, that twenty minutes is about the right length of time forthe recess, all told--that is, from the time you go out to the time whenyou are _all_ back in your seats again, quiet and ready to resume yourstudies. I found yesterday that it took five minutes for you all to comein--that is, that it was five minutes from the time the bell was rungbefore all were in their seats; and to-day I shall ring the bell after_fifteen_ minutes, so as to give you time to come in. If I find to-day thatit takes ten minutes, then I will give you more time to come in to-morrow,by ringing the bell after you have been out _ten_ minutes."

"I am sorry to have you lose so much of your recess, and if you can makethe time for coming in shorter, then, of course, your recess can be longer.I should not wonder if, after a few trials, you should find that you couldall come in and get into your places in _one_ minute; and if so, I shallbe very glad, for then you can have an uninterrupted recess of _nineteen_minutes, which will be a great gain."

Every one who has had any considerable experience in the management of boyswill readily understand how different the effect of this measure will befrom that of the other, while yet the penalty is in both cases preciselythe same--namely, the loss, for the boys, of five minutes of their play.

_The Little Runaway_.

In the same manner, where a child three or four years old was in the habit,when allowed to go out by himself in the yard to play, of running off intothe street, a very appropriate punishment would be to require him, for theremainder of the day, to stay in the house and keep in sight of his mother,on the ground that it was not safe to trust him by himself in the yard.This would be much better than sending him to bed an hour earlier, orsubjecting him to any other inconvenience or privation having no obviousconnection with the fault. For it is of the greatest importance to avoid,by every means, the exciting of feelings of irritation and resentmentin the mind of the child, so far as it is possible to do this withoutimpairing the efficiency of the punishment. It is not always possible to dothis. The efficiency of the punishment is, of course, the essential thing;but parents and teachers who turn their attention to the point will findthat it is much less difficult than one would suppose to secure thisend completely without producing the too frequent accompaniments ofpunishment--anger, ill-temper, and ill-will.

[Illustration: "IT IS NOT SAFE"]

In the case, for example, of the child not allowed to go out into the yard,but required to remain in the house in sight of his mother, the mothershould not try to make the punishment _more heavy_ by speaking again andagain of his fault, and evincing her displeasure by trying to make theconfinement as irksome to the child as possible; but, on the other hand,should do all in her power to alleviate it. "I am very sorry," she mightsay, "to have to keep you in the house. It would be much pleasanter for youto go out and play in the yard, if it was only safe. I don't blame you verymuch for running away. It is what foolish little children, as little asyou, very often do. I suppose you thought it would be good fun to run outa little way in the street. And it is good fun; but it is not safe.By-and-by, when you grow a little larger, you won't be so foolish, and thenI can trust you in the yard at any time without having to watch you at all.And now what can I get for you to amuse you while you stay in the housewith me?"

Punishment coming in this way, and administered in this spirit, willirritate the mind and injure the temper comparatively little; and, insteadof being less; will be much more effective in accomplishing the _rightkind_ of cure for the fault, than any stern, severe, and vindictiveretribution can possibly be.

_The Question of Corporal Punishment_.

The question of resorting to corporal punishment in the training of theyoung has been much, very much, argued and discussed on both sides bywriters on education; but it seems to me to be mainly a question ofcompetency and skill. If the parent or teacher has tact or skill enough,and practical knowledge enough of the workings of the youthful mind, he cangain all the necessary ascendency over it without resort to the violentinfliction of bodily pain in any form. If he has not these qualities, thenhe must turn to the next best means at his disposal; for it is better thata child should be trained and governed by the rod than not trained andgoverned at all. I do not suppose that savages could possibly control theirchildren without blows; while, on the other hand, Maria Edgeworth wouldhave brought under complete submission to her will a family of the mostardent and impulsive juveniles, perhaps without even a harsh word or afrown. If a mother begins with children at the beginning, is just and truein all her dealings with them, gentle in manner, but inflexibly firm inact, and looks constantly for Divine guidance and aid in her conscientiousefforts to do her duty, I feel quite confident that it will never benecessary for her to strike them. The necessity may, however, sooner orlater come, for aught I know, in the case of those who act on the contraryprinciple. Under such management, the rod may come to be the onlyalternative to absolute unmanageableness and anarchy.

There will be occasion, however, to refer to this subject more fully in afuture chapter.

CHAPTER VI.

REWARDING OBEDIENCE.

The mode of action described in the last two chapters for training childrento habits of obedience consisted in discouraging disobedience by connectingsome certain, though mild and gentle disadvantage, inconvenience, orpenalty, with every transgression. In this chapter is to be consideredanother mode, which is in some respects the converse of the first, inasmuchas it consists in the encouragement of obedience, by often--not necessarilyalways--connecting with it some advantage, or gain, or pleasure; or, asit may be stated summarily, the cautious encouragement of obedience byrewards.

This method of action is more difficult than the other in the sense that itrequires more skill, tact, and delicacy of perception and discrimination tocarry it successfully into effect. The other demands only firm, but gentleand steady persistence. If the penalty, however slight it may be, _alwayscomes,_ the effect will take care of itself. But judiciously toadminister a system of rewards, or even of commendations, requires tact,discrimination, and skill. It requires some observation of the peculiarcharacteristics of the different minds acted upon, and of the effectsproduced, and often some intelligent modification of the measures isrequired, to fit them to varying circumstances and times.

_Obedience must not be Bought_.

If the bestowing of commendation and rewards is made a matter of mere blindroutine, as the assigning of gentle penalties may be, the result willbecome a mere system of _bribing_, or rather paying children to be good;and goodness that is bought, if it deserves the name of virtue at all, iscertainly virtue of a very inferior quality.

Whether a reward conferred for obedience shall operate as a bribe, orrather as a price paid--for a _bribe_, strictly speaking, is a price paid,not for doing right, but for doing wrong--depends sometimes on very slightdifferences in the management of the particular case--differences which anundiscriminating mother will not be very ready to appreciate.

A mother, for example, going into the village on a summer afternoon, leavesher children playing in the yard, under the general charge of Susan, whois at work in the kitchen, whence she can observe them from time to timethrough the open window. She thinks the children will be safe, providedthey remain in the yard. The only thing to be guarded against is the dangerthat they may go out through the gate into the road.

_Two Different Modes of Management_.

Under some circumstances, as, for example, where the danger to which theywould be exposed in going into the road was very great, or where the mothercan not rely upon her power to control her children's conduct by moralmeans in any way, the only safe method would be to fasten the gate. But ifshe prefers to depend for their safety on their voluntary obedience toher commands, and wishes, moreover, to promote the spirit of obedience byrewarding rather than punishing, she can make her rewards of the nature ofhire or not, according to her mode of management.

If she wishes to _hire_ obedience, she has only to say to the children thatshe is going into the village for a little time, and that they may play inthe yard while she is gone, but must not go out of the gate; adding, thatshe is going to bring home some oranges or candies, which she will givethem if she finds that they have obeyed her, but which she will not givethem if they have disobeyed.

Such a promise, provided the children have the double confidence in theirmother which such a method requires--namely, first, a full belief thatshe will really bring home the promised rewards, if they obey her; andsecondly--and this is a confidence much less frequently felt by children,and much less frequently deserved by their mothers--a conviction that, incase they disobey, no importunities on their part or promises for the nexttime will induce their mother to give them the good things, but that therewards will certainly be lost to them unless they are deserved, accordingto the conditions of the promise--in such a case--that is, when this doubleconfidence exists, the promise will have great influence upon the children.Still, it is, in its nature, _hiring_ them to obey. I do not say that thisis necessarily a bad plan, though I think there is a better. Children may,perhaps, be trained gradually to habits of obedience by a system of directrewards, and in a manner, too, far more agreeable to the parent andbetter for the child than by a system of compulsion through threats andpunishment.

_The Method of Indirect Rewarding_.

But there is another way of connecting pleasurable ideas and associationswith submission to parental authority in the minds of children, as a meansof alluring them to the habit of obedience--one that is both more efficientin its results and more healthful and salutary in its action than thepractice of bestowing direct recompenses and rewards.

Suppose, for example, in the case above described, the mother, on leavingthe children, simply gives them the command that they are not to leave theyard, but makes no promises, and then, on returning from the village withthe bonbons in her bag, simply asks Susan, when she comes in, whether thechildren have obeyed her injunction not to leave the yard. If Susan saysyes, she nods to them, with a look of satisfaction and pleasure, and adds:"I thought they would obey me. I am very glad. Now I can trust them again."

Then, by-and-by, towards the close of the day, perhaps, and when thechildren suppose that the affair is forgotten, she takes an opportunity tocall them to her, saying that she has something to tell them.

"You remember when I went to the village to-day, I left you in the yardand said that you must not go out of the gate, and you obeyed. Perhaps youwould have liked to go out into the road and play there, but you would notgo because I had forbidden it. I am very glad that you obeyed. I thoughtof you when I was in the village, and I thought you would obey me. I feltquite safe about you. If you had been disobedient children, I should havefelt uneasy and anxious. But I felt safe. When I had finished my shopping,I thought I would buy you some bonbons, and here they are. You can go andsit down together on the carpet and divide them. Mary can choose one, andthen Jane; then Mary, and then Jane again; and so on until they are allchosen."

_Difference in the Character of the Effects_.

It may, perhaps, be said by the reader that this is substantially the sameas giving a direct reward for the obedience. I admit that it is in somesense _substantially_ the same thing, but it is not the same in form. Andthis is one of those cases where the effect is modified very greatly by theform. Where children are directly promised a reward if they do so and so,they naturally regard the transaction as of the nature of a contract or abargain, such that when they have fulfilled the conditions on their partthe reward is their due, as, indeed, it really is; and they come and demandit as such. The tendency, then, is, to divest their minds of all sense ofobligation in respect to doing right, and to make them feel that it is insome sense optional with them whether to do right and earn the reward, ornot to do right and lose it.

In the case, however, last described, which seems at first view to differonly in form from the preceding one, the commendation and the bonbons wouldbe so connected with the act of obedience as to associate very agreeableideas with it in the children's minds, and thus to make doing right appearattractive to them on future occasions, while, at the same time, they wouldnot in any degree deprive the act itself of its spontaneous character, asresulting from a sense of duty on their part, or produce the impression ontheir minds that their remaining within the gate was of the nature of aservice rendered to their mother for hire, and afterwards duly paid for.

The lesson which we deduce from this illustration and the considerationsconnected with it may be stated as follows:

_The General Principle_.

That the rewards conferred upon children with a view of connectingpleasurable ideas and associations with good conduct should not takethe form of compensations stipulated for beforehand, and then conferredaccording to agreement, as if they were of the nature of payment fora service rendered, but should come as the natural expression of thesatisfaction and happiness felt by the mother in the good conduct of herchild--expressions as free and spontaneous on her part as the good conductwas on the part of the child.

The mother who understands the full import of this principle, and whosemind becomes fully possessed of it, will find it constantly coming intopractical use in a thousand ways. She has undertaken, for example, to teachher little son to read. Of course learning to read is irksome to him. Hedislikes extremely to leave his play and come to take his lesson. Sometimesa mother is inconsiderate enough to be pained at this. She is troubled tofind that her boy takes so little interest in so useful a work, and even,perhaps, scolds him, and threatens him for not loving study. "If you don'tlearn to read," she says to him, in a tone of irritation and displeasure,"you will grow up a dunce, and every body will laugh at you, and you willbe ashamed to be seen."

_Children's Difficulties_.

But let her imagine that she herself was to be called away two or threetimes a day, for half an hour, to study Chinese, with a very exactingteacher, always more or less impatient and dissatisfied with her progress;and yet the irksomeness and difficulty for the mother, in learning todecipher Chinese, would be as nothing compared with that of the child inlearning to read. The only thing that could make the work even tolerable tothe mother would be a pretty near, distinct, and certain prospect ofgoing to China under circumstances that would make the knowledge of greatadvantage to her. But the child has no such near, distinct, and certainprospect of the advantages of knowing how to read. He has scarcely anyidea of these advantages at all. You can describe them to him, but thedescription will have no perceptible effect upon his mind. Those facultiesby which we bring the future vividly before us so as to influence ourpresent action, are not yet developed. His cerebral organization has notyet advanced to that condition, any more than his bones have advanced tothe hardness, rigidness, and strength of manhood. His mind is only capableof being influenced strongly by what is present, or, at least, very near.It is the design of Divine Providence that this should be so. The childis not made to look forward much yet, and the mother who is pained anddistressed because he will not look forward, shows a great ignorance of thenature of the infantile mind, and of the manner of its development. Ifshe finds fault with her boy for not feeling distinctly enough the futureadvantages of learning to lead him to love study now, she is simply findingfault with a boy for not being possessed of the most slowly developedfaculties of a man.

The way, then, to induce children to attend to such duties as learning toread, is not to reason with them on the advantages of it, but to put itsimply on the ground of authority. "It is very irksome, I know, but youmust do it. When you are at play, and having a very pleasant time, I knowvery well that it is hard for you to be called away to puzzle over yourletters and your reading. It was very hard for me when I was a child. It isvery hard for all children; but then it must be done."

The way in this, as in all other similar cases, to reduce the irksomenessof disagreeable duties to a minimum is not to attempt to convince orpersuade the child, but to put the performance of them simply on the groundof submission to authority. The child must leave his play and come to takehis lesson, not because he sees that it is better for him to learn to readthan to play all the time, nor because he is to receive a reward in theform of compensation, but because his mother requires him to do it.

_Indirect Rewarding_.

If, therefore, she concludes, in order to connect agreeable ideas with thehard work of learning to read, that she will often, at the close of thelessons, tell him a little story, or show him a picture, or have a frolicwith him, or give him a piece of candy or a lump of sugar, or bestow uponhim any other little gratification, it is better not to promise thesethings beforehand, so as to give to the coming of the child, when called,the character of a service rendered for hire. Let him come simplybecause he is called; and then let the gratifications be bestowed as theexpressions of his mother's satisfaction and happiness, in view of herboy's ready obedience to her commands and faithful performance of his duty.

_Obedience, though Implicit, need not be Blind_.

It must not be supposed from what has been said that because a mother isnot to _rely upon_ the reason and forecast of the child in respect tofuture advantages to accrue from efforts or sacrifices as motives ofpresent action, that she is not to employ the influence of these motivesat all. It is true that those faculties of the mind by which we apprehenddistant things and govern our conduct by them are not yet developed in thechild; but they are _to be_ developed, and the aid of the parent will be ofthe greatest service in promoting the development of them. At propertimes, then, the pleasures and advantages of knowing how to read should bedescribed to the child, and presented moreover in the most attractive form.The proper time for doing this would be when no lesson is in question--during a ride or a walk, or in the midst of a story, or while looking ata book of pictures. A most improper time would be when a command hadbeen given and was disregarded, or was reluctantly obeyed; for then suchrepresentations would only tend to enfeeble the principle of authority bybringing in the influence of reasonings and persuasions to make up forits acknowledged inefficiency. It is one of those cases where a force isweakened by reinforcement--as a plant, by being long held up by a stake,comes in the end not to be able to stand alone.

So a mother can not in any way more effectually undermine her authority,as _authority_, than by attempting to eke out its force by arguments andcoaxings.

_Authority not to be made Oppressive_.

While the parent must thus take care to establish the _principle ofauthority_ as the ground of obedience on the part of his children, and mustnot make their doing what he requires any the less acts of _obedience_,through vainly attempting to diminish the hardship of obeying a command bymingling the influence of reasonings and persuasions with it, he may inother ways do all in his power--and that will be a great deal--to make theacts of obedience easy, or, at least, to diminish the difficulty of themand the severity of the trial which they often bring to the child.

One mode by which this may be done is by not springing disagreeableobligations upon a child suddenly, but by giving his mind a little timeto form itself to the idea of what is to come. When Johnny and Mary areplaying together happily with their blocks upon the floor, and are,perhaps, just completing a tower which they have been building, if theirmother comes suddenly into the room, announces to them abruptly that it istime for them to go to bed, throws down the tower and brushes the blocksinto the basket, and then hurries the children away to the undressing, shegives a sudden and painful shock to their whole nervous system, and greatlyincreases the disappointment and pain which they experience in beingobliged to give up their play. The delay of a single minute would besufficient to bring their minds round easily and gently into submission tothe necessity of the case. If she comes to them with a smile, looks upontheir work a moment with an expression of interest and pleasure upon hercountenance, and then says,

"It is bed-time, children, but I would like to see you finish your tower."

One minute of delay like this, to soften the suddenness of the transition,will make the act of submission to the necessity of giving up play andgoing to bed, in obedience to the mother's command, comparatively easy,instead of being, as it very likely would otherwise have been, extremelyvexatious and painful.

_Give a Little Time_.

In the same way, in bringing to a close an evening party of children atplay, if the lady of the house comes a little before the time and says tothem that after "one more play," or "two more plays," as the case may be,"the party must come to an end," the closing of it would be made easy; whileby waiting till the hour had come, and then suddenly interrupting thegayety, perhaps in the middle of a game, by the abrupt announcement to thechildren that the clock has struck, and they must stop their plays andbegin to get ready to go home, she brings upon them a sudden shock ofpainful surprise, disappointment, and, perhaps, irritation.

So, if children are to be called away from their play for any purposewhatever, it is always best to give them a little notice, if it be only amoment's notice, beforehand. "John, in a minute or two I shall wish you togo and get some wood. You can be getting your things ready to be left.""Mary, it is almost time for your lesson. You had better put Dolly to sleepand lay her in the cradle." "Boys, in ten minutes it will be time for youto go to school. So do not begin any new whistles, but only finish what youhave begun."

On the same principle, if boys are at play in the open air--at ball, orskating, or flying kites--and are to be recalled by a bell, obedience tothe call will be made much more easy to them by a preliminary signal, as awarning, given five minutes before the time.

Of course, it will not always be convenient to give these signals and thesetimes of preparation. Nor will it be always necessary to give them. Todetermine how and in what cases it is best to apply the principle hereexplained will require some tact and good judgment on the part of theparent. It would be folly to lay down a rigid rule of this kind to beconsidered as always obligatory. All that is desirable is that the mothershould understand the principle, and that she should apply it as far as sheconveniently and easily can do so. She will find in practice that when sheonce appreciates the value of it, and observes its kind and beneficentworking, she will find it convenient and easy to apply it far moregenerally than she would suppose.

_No weakening of Authority in this_.

It is very plain that softening thus the hardship for the child of anyact of obedience required of him by giving him a little time implies noabatement of the authority of the parent, nor does it detract at all fromthe implicitness of the obedience on the part of the child. The submissionto authority is as complete in doing a thing in five minutes if the orderwas to do it in five minutes, as in doing it at once if the order was to doit at once. And the mother must take great care, when thus trying to makeobedience more easy by allowing time, that it should be prompt and absolutewhen the time has expired.

The idea is, that though the parent is bound fully to maintain hisauthority over his children, in all its force, he is also bound to make theexercise of it as little irksome and painful to them as possible, and toprevent as much as possible the pressure of it from encroaching upon theirjuvenile joys. He must insist inexorably on being obeyed; but he is boundto do all in his power to make the yoke of obedience light and easily to beborne.

_Influence on the healthful Development of the Brain_.

Indeed, besides the bearing of these views on the happiness of thechildren, it is not at all improbable that the question of health maybe seriously involved in them. For, however certain we may be of theimmateriality of the soul in its essence, it is a perfectly wellestablished fact that all its operations and functions, as an animatingspirit in the human body, are fulfilled through the workings of materialorgans in the brain; that these organs are in childhood in an exceedinglyimmature, tender, and delicate condition; and that all sudden, sharp,and, especially, painful emotions, greatly excite, and sometimes cruellyirritate them.

When we consider how seriously the action of the digestive organs, inpersons in an ordinary state of health, is often interfered with by mentalanxiety or distress; how frequently, in persons subject to headaches, theparoxysm is brought on by worryings or perplexities endured incidentally onthe preceding day; and especially how often violent and painful emotions,when they are extreme, result in decided and sometimes in permanent andhopeless insanity--that is, in an irreparable damage to some delicatemechanism in the brain--we shall see that there is every reason forsupposing that all sudden shocks to the nervous system of children, allviolent and painful excitements, all vexations and irritations, andebullitions of ill-temper and anger, have a tendency to disturb the healthydevelopment of the cerebral organs, and may, in many cases, seriouslyaffect the future health and welfare, as well as the present happiness, ofthe child.

It is true that mental disturbances and agitations of this kind can not bewholly avoided. But they should be avoided as far as possible; and themost efficient means for avoiding them is a firm, though calm and gentle,establishment and maintenance of parental authority, and not, as manymothers very mistakingly imagine, by unreasonable indulgences, andby endeavors to manage their children by persuasions, bribings, andmanoeuvrings, instead of by commands. The most indulged children, and theleast governed, are always the most petulant and irritable; while a stronggovernment, if regular, uniform, and just, and if administered by gentlemeasures, is the most effectual of all possible instrumentalities forsurrounding childhood with an atmosphere of calmness and peace.

In a word, while the mother is bound to do all in her power to rendersubmission to her authority easy and agreeable to her children, bysoftening as much as possible the disappointment and hardship which hercommands sometimes occasion, and by connecting pleasurable ideas andsensations with acts of obedience on the part of the child, she must notat all relax the authority itself, but must maintain it under allcircumstances in its full force, with a very firm and decided, though stillgentle hand.

CHAPTER VII.

THE ART OF TRAINING.

It is very clear that the most simple and the most obvious of the modes bywhich a parent may establish among his children the habit of submissionto his authority, are those which have been already described, namely,punishments and rewards--punishments, gentle in their character, butinvariably enforced, as the sure results of acts of insubordination; andrewards for obedience, occasionally and cautiously bestowed, in such amanner that they may be regarded as recognitions simply, on the part ofthe parent, of the good conduct of his children, and expressions of hisgratification, and not in the light of payment or hire. These are obviouslythe most simple modes, and the ones most ready at hand. They require noexalted or unusual qualities on the part of father or mother, unless,indeed, we consider gentleness, combined with firmness and good sense, asan assemblage of rare and exalted qualities. To assign, and firmly anduniformly to enforce, just but gentle penalties for disobedience, and torecognize, and sometimes reward, special acts of obedience and submission,are measures fully within the reach of every parent, however humble may bethe condition of his intelligence or his attainments of knowledge.

_Another Class of Influences_.

There is, however, another class of influences to be adopted, not as asubstitute for these simple measures, but in connection and co-operationwith them, which will be far more deep, powerful, and permanent in theirresults, though they require much higher qualities in the parent forcarrying them successfully into effect. This higher method consists ina _systematic effort to develop in the mind of the child a love of theprinciple of obedience_, by express and appropriate training.

_Parents not aware of the Extent of their Responsibility_.

Many parents, perhaps indeed nearly all, seem, as we have already shown,to act as if they considered the duty of obedience on the part of theirchildren as a matter of course. They do not expect their children to reador to write without being taught; they do not expect a dog to fetch andcarry, or a horse to draw and to understand commands and signals, withoutbeing _trained_. In all these cases they perceive the necessity of trainingand instruction, and understand that the initiative is with _them_. If ahorse, endowed by nature with average good qualities, does not work well,the fault is attributed at once to the man who undertook to train him. Butwhat mother, when her child, grown large and strong, becomes the trial andsorrow of her life by his ungovernable disobedience and insubordination,takes the blame to herself in reflecting that he was placed in her handswhen all the powers and faculties of his soul were in embryo, tender,pliant, and unresisting, to be formed and fashioned at her will?

_The Spirit of filial Obedience not Instinctive_.

Children, as has already been remarked, do not require to be taughtand trained to eat and drink, to resent injuries, to cling to theirpossessions, or to run to their mother in danger or pain. They have naturalinstincts which provide for all these things. But to speak, to read, towrite, and to calculate; to tell the truth, and to obey their parents;to forgive injuries, to face bravely fancied dangers and bear patientlyunavoidable pain, are attainments for which no natural instincts canadequately provide. There are instincts that will aid in the work, but nonethat can of themselves be relied upon without instruction and training. Inactual fact, children usually receive their instruction and training inrespect to some of these things incidentally--as it happens--by the roughknocks and frictions, and various painful experiences which they encounterin the early years of life. In respect to others, the guidance andaid afforded them is more direct and systematic. Unfortunately theestablishment in their minds of the principle of obedience comes ordinarilyunder the former category. No systematic and appropriate efforts aremade by the parent to implant it. It is left to the uncertain and fitfulinfluences of accident--to remonstrances, reproaches, and injunctionscalled forth under sudden excitement in the various emergencies of domesticdiscipline, and to other means, vague, capricious, and uncertain, andhaving no wise adaptedness to the attainment of the end in view.

_Requires appropriate Training_.

How much better and more successfully the object would be accomplished ifthe mother were to understand distinctly at the outset that the work oftraining her children to the habit of submission to her authority is aduty, the responsibility of which devolves not upon her children, but uponher; that it is a duty, moreover, of the highest importance, and one thatdemands careful consideration, much forethought, and the wise adaptation ofmeans to the end.

_Methods_.

The first thought of some parents may possibly be, that they do not know ofany other measures to take in order to teach their children submission totheir authority, than to reward them when they obey and punish them whenthey disobey. To show that there are other methods, we will consider aparticular case.

Mary, a young lady of seventeen, came to make a visit to her sister.She soon perceived that her sister's children, Adolphus and Lucia, wereentirely ungoverned. Their mother coaxed, remonstrated, advised, gavereasons, said "I wouldn't do this," or "I wouldn't do that,"--did everything, in fact, except simply to command; and the children, consequently,did pretty much what they pleased. Their mother wondered at theirdisobedience and insubordination, and in cases where these faults resultedin special inconvenience for herself she bitterly reproached the childrenfor their undutiful behavior. But the reproaches produced no effect.

"The first thing that I have to do," said Mary to herself, in observingthis state of things, "is to teach the children to obey--at least to obey_me_. I will give them their first lesson at once."

_Mary makes a Beginning_.

So she proposed to them to go out with her into the garden and show herthe flowers, adding that if they would do so she would make each of them abouquet. She could make them some very pretty bouquets, she said, providedthey would help her, and would follow her directions and obey herimplicitly while gathering and arranging the flowers.

This the children promised to do, and Mary went with them into the garden.There, as she passed about from border to border, she gave them a greatmany different directions in respect to things which they were to do, orwhich they were not to do. She gathered flowers, and gave some to onechild, and some to the other, to be held and carried--with specialinstructions in respect to many details, such as directing some flowers tobe put together, and others to be kept separate, and specifying in whatmanner they were to be held or carried. Then she led them to a bower wherethere was a long seat, and explained to them how they were to lay theflowers in order upon the seat, and directed them to be very careful not totouch them after they were once laid down. They were, moreover, to leave aplace in the middle of the seat entirely clear. They asked what that wasfor. Mary said that they would see by-and-by. "You must always do just asI say," she added, "and perhaps I shall explain the reason afterwards, orperhaps you will see what the reason is yourselves."

After going on in this way until a sufficient number and variety of flowerswere collected, Mary took her seat in the vacant place which had been left,and assigned the two portions of the seat upon which the flowers had beenplaced to the children, giving each the charge of the flowers upon oneportion, with instructions to select and give to her such as she shouldcall for. From the flowers thus brought she formed two bouquets, one foreach of the children. Then she set them both at work to make bouquets forthemselves, giving them minute and special directions in regard to everystep. If her object had been to cultivate their taste and judgment, then itwould have been better to allow them to choose the flowers and determinethe arrangement for themselves; but she was teaching them _obedience_, or,rather, beginning to form in them the _habit_ of obedience; and so, themore numerous and minute the commands the better, provided that they werenot in them selves unreasonable, nor so numerous and minute as to bevexatious, so as to incur any serious danger of their not being readily andgood-humoredly obeyed.

[Illustration: THE LESSON IN OBEDIENCE.]

_THE ART OF TRAINING_. 101

When the bouquets were finished Mary gave the children, severally, thetwo which had been made for them; and the two which they had made forthemselves she took into the house and placed them in glasses upon theparlor mantel-piece, and then stood back with the children in the middle ofthe room to admire them.

"See how pretty they look! And how nicely the work went on while we weremaking them! That was because you obeyed me so well while we were doing it.You did exactly as I said in every thing."

_A Beginning only_.

Now this was an excellent _first lesson_ in training the children to thehabit of obedience. It is true that it was _only_ a first lesson. It was abeginning, but it was a very good beginning. If, on the following day, Maryhad given the children a command which it would be irksome to them to obey,or one which would have called for any special sacrifice or self-denial ontheir part, they would have disregarded it. Still they would have been alittle less inclined to disregard it than if they had not received theirfirst lesson; and there can be no doubt that if Mary were to continue hertraining in the same spirit in which she commenced it she would, beforemany weeks, acquire a complete ascendency over them, and make them entirelysubmissive to her will.

And yet this is a species of training the efficacy of which depends oninfluences in which the hope of reward or the fear of punishment does notenter. The bouquets were not promised to the children at the outset, norwere they given to them at last as rewards. It is true that they sawthe advantages resulting from due subordination of the inferiors to thesuperior in concerted action, and at the end they felt a satisfactionin having acted right; but these advantages did not come in the form ofrewards. The efficacy of the lesson depended on a different principlealtogether.

_The Philosophy of it_.

The philosophy of it was this: Mary, knowing that the principle ofobedience in the children was extremely weak, and that it could not standany serious test, contrived to bring it into exercise a great many timesunder the lightest possible pressure. She called upon them to do a greatmany different things, each of which was very easy to do, and gave themmany little prohibitions which it required a very slight effort ofself-denial on their part to regard; and she connected agreeableassociations in their minds with the idea of submission to authority,through the interest which she knew they would feel in seeing the workof gathering the flowers and making the bouquets go systematically andprosperously on, and through the commendation of their conduct which sheexpressed at the end.

Such persons as Mary do not analyze distinctly, in their thoughts,nor could they express in words, the principles which underlie theirmanagement; but they have an instinctive mental perception of theadaptation of such means to the end in view. Other people, who observe howeasily and quietly they seem to obtain an ascendency over all childrencoming within their influence, and how absolute this ascendency oftenbecomes, are frequently surprised at it. They think there is some mysteryabout it; they say it is "a knack that some people have;" but there is nomystery about it at all, and nothing unusual or strange, except so far aspractical good sense, considerate judgment, and intelligent observation andappreciation of the characteristics of childhood are unusual and strange.

Mary was aware that, although the principle of obedience is seldom ornever entirely obliterated from the hearts of children--that is, thatthe impression upon their minds, which, though it may not be absolutelyinstinctive, is very early acquired, that it is incumbent on them to obeythose set in authority over them, is seldom wholly effaced, the sentimenthad become extremely feeble in the minds of Adolphus and Lucia; and that itwas like a frail and dying plant, which required very delicate and carefulnurture to quicken it to life and give it its normal health and vigor. Hermanagement was precisely of this character. It called the weak and feebleprinciple into gentle exercise, without putting it to any severe test, andthus commenced the formation of a _habit of action_. Any one will see thata course of training on these principles, patiently and perseveringlycontinued for the proper time, could not fail of securing the desired end,except in cases of children characterized by unusual and entirely abnormalperversity.

We can not here follow in detail the various modes in which such a manageras Mary would adapt her principle to the changing incidents of each day,and to the different stages of progress made by her pupils in learning toobey, but can only enumerate certain points worthy of the attention ofparents who may feel desirous to undertake such a work of training.

_Three practical Directions_.

1. Relinquish entirely the idea of expecting children to be _spontaneously_docile and obedient, and the practice of scolding or punishing themvindictively when they are not so. Instead of so doing, understand thatdocility and obedience on their part is to be the result of wise, careful,and persevering, though gentle training on the part of the parent.

2. If the children have already formed habits of disobedience andinsubordination, do not expect that the desirable change can be effected bysudden, spasmodic, and violent efforts, accompanied by denunciations andthreats, and declarations that you are going to "turn over a new leaf." Theattempt to change perverted tendencies in children by such means is liketrying to straighten a bend in the stem of a growing tree by blows with ahammer.

3. Instead of this, begin without saying at all what you are going to do,or finding any fault with the past, and, with a distinct recognition of thefact that whatever is bad in the _native tendencies_ of your children'sminds is probably inherited from their parents, and, perhaps, speciallyfrom yourself, and that whatever is wrong in their _habits of action_ iscertainly the result of bad training, proceed cautiously and gently, butperseveringly and firmly, in bringing the bent stem gradually up to theright position. In doing this, there is no amount of ingenuity and skill,however great, that may not be usefully employed; nor is there, on theother hand, except in very rare and exceptional cases, any parent who hasan allotment so small as not to be sufficient to accomplish the end, ifconscientiously and faithfully employed.

CHAPTER VIII.

METHODS EXEMPLIFIED.

In order to give a more clear idea of what I mean by forming habits ofobedience in children by methods other than those connected with a systemof rewards and punishments, I will specify some such methods, introducingthem, however, only as illustrations of what is intended. For, while inrespect to rewards and punishments something like special and definiterules and directions may be given, these other methods, as they depend onthe tact, ingenuity, and inventive powers of the parents for their success,depend also in great measure upon these same qualities for the discoveryof them. The only help that can be received from without must consist ofsuggestions and illustrations, which can only serve to communicate to themind some general ideas in respect to them.

_Recognizing the Right._

1. A very excellent effect is produced in forming habits of obedience inchildren, by simply _noticing_ their good conduct when they do right, andletting them see that you notice it. When children are at play upon thecarpet, and their mother from time to time calls one of them--Mary, we willsay--to come to her to render some little service, it is very often thecase that she is accustomed, when Mary obeys the call at once, leavingher play immediately and coming directly, to say nothing about the promptobedience, but to treat it as a matter of course. It is only in thecases of failure that she seems to notice the action. When Mary, greatlyinterested in what for the moment she is doing, delays her coming, shesays, "You ought to come at once, Mary, when I call you, and not make mewait in this way." In the cases when Mary did come at once, she had saidnothing.

Mary goes back to her play after the reproof, a little disturbed in mind,at any rate, and perhaps considerably out of humor.

Now Mary may, perhaps, be in time induced to obey more promptly under thismanagement, but she will have no heart in making the improvement, and shewill advance reluctantly and slowly, if at all. But if, at the first timethat she comes promptly, and then, after doing the errand, is ready to goback to her play, her mother says, "You left your play and came at oncewhen I called you. That was right. It pleases me very much to find that Ican depend upon your being so prompt, even when you are at play," Mary willgo back to her play pleased and happy; and the tendency of the incidentwill be to cause her to feel a spontaneous and cordial interest in theprinciple of prompt obedience in time to come.

Johnny is taking a walk through the fields with his mother. He sees abutterfly and sets off in chase of it. When he has gone away from the pathamong the rocks and bushes as far as his mother thinks is safe, she callshim to come back. In many cases, if the boy does not come at once inobedience to such a call, he would perhaps receive a scolding. If he doescome back at once, nothing is said. In either case no decided effect wouldbe produced upon him.

But if his mother says, "Johnny, you obeyed me at once when I called you.It must be hard, when you are after a butterfly and think you have almostcaught him, to stop immediately and come back to your mother when she callsyou; but you did it," Johnny will be led by this treatment to feel a desireto come back more promptly still the next time.

_A Caution._

Of course there is an endless variety of ways by which you can show yourchildren that you notice and appreciate the efforts they make to do right.Doubtless there is a danger to be guarded against. To adopt the practice ofnoticing and commending what is right, and paying _no attention whatever_to what is wrong, would be a great perversion of this counsel. There isa danger more insidious than this, but still very serious and real,of fostering a feeling of vanity and self-conceit by constant andinconsiderate praise. These things must be guarded against; and to securethe good aimed at, and at the same time to avoid the evil, requires theexercise of the tact and ingenuity which has before been referred to. Butwith proper skill and proper care the habit of noticing and commending, oreven noticing alone, when children do right, and of even being morequick to notice and to be pleased with the right than to detect and bedissatisfied with the wrong, will be found to be a very powerful means oftraining children in the right way.

Children will act with a great deal more readiness and alacrity to preservea good character which people already attribute to them, than to relievethemselves of the opprobrium of a bad one with which they are charged. Inother words, it is much easier to allure them to what is right than todrive them from what is wrong.

_Giving Advice._

2. There is, perhaps, nothing more irksome to children than to listen toadvice given to them in a direct and simple form, and perhaps there isnothing that has less influence upon them in the formation of theircharacters than advice so given. And there is good reason for this; foreither the advice must be general, and of course more or less abstract,when it is necessarily in a great measure lost upon them, since theirpowers of generalization and abstraction are not yet developed; or else,if it is practical and particular at all, it must be so with reference totheir own daily experience in life--in which case it becomes more irksomestill, as they necessarily regard it as an indirect mode of fault-finding.Indeed, this kind of advice is almost certain to assume the form ofhalf-concealed fault-finding, for the subject of the counsel given wouldbe, in almost all cases, suggested by the errors, or shortcomings, orfailures which had been recently observed in the conduct of the children.The art, then, of giving to children general advice and instruction inrespect to their conduct and behavior, consists in making it definiteand practical, and at the same time contriving some way of divesting itentirely of all direct application to themselves in respect to their _past_conduct. Of course, the more we make it practically applicable to them inrespect to the future the better.

There are various ways of giving advice of this character. It requires someingenuity to invent them, and some degree of tact and skill to apply themsuccessfully. But the necessary tact and skill would be easily acquired byany mother whose heart is really set upon finding gentle modes of leadingher child into the path of duty.

_James and his Cousins_.

James, going to spend one of his college vacations at his uncle's, wastaken by his two cousins, Walter and Ann--eight and six years old--intotheir room. The room was all in confusion. There was a set of book-shelvesupon one side, the books upon them lying tumbled about in all directions.There was a case containing playthings in another place, the playthingsbroken and in disorder; and two tables, one against the wall, and the otherin the middle of the room, both covered with litter. Now if James hadcommenced his conversation by giving the children a lecture on the disorderof their room, and on the duty, on their part, of taking better care oftheir things, the chief effect would very probably have been simply toprevent their wishing to have him come to their room again.

But James managed the case differently. After going about the room fora few minutes with the children, and looking with them at their varioustreasures, and admiring what they seemed to admire, but without finding anyfault, he sat down before the fire and took the children upon his lap--oneupon each knee--and began to talk to them. Ann had one of her picture-booksin her hand, some of the leaves torn, and the rest defaced with dog's-ears.

"Now, Walter," said James, "I'm going to give you some advice. I am goingto advise you what to do and how to act when you go to college. By-and-byyou will grow to be a young man, and will then, perhaps, go to college."

The idea of growing to be a young man and going to college was verypleasing to Walter's imagination, and brought his mind into what may becalled a receptive condition--that is, into a state to receive readily, andentertain with favor, the thoughts which James was prepared to present.

James then went on to draw a very agreeable picture of Walter's leavinghome and going to college, with many details calculated to be pleasingto his cousin's fancy, and came at length to his room, and to thecircumstances under which he would take possession of it. Then he toldhim of the condition in which different scholars kept their respectiverooms--how some were always in disorder, and every thing in themtopsy-turvy, so that they had no pleasant or home-like aspect at all; whilein others every thing was well arranged, and kept continually in thatcondition, so as to give the whole room, to every one who entered it, avery charming appearance.

"The books on their shelves were all properly arranged," he said, "allstanding up in order--those of a like size together. Jump down, Ann, and goto your shelves, and arrange the books on the middle shelf in that way, toshow him what I mean."

Ann jumped down, and ran with great alacrity to arrange the books accordingto the directions. When she had arranged one shelf, she was proceeding todo the same with the next, but James said she need not do any more then.She could arrange the others, if she pleased, at another time, he said."But come back now," he added, "and hear the rest of the advice."

"I advise you to keep your book-shelves in nice order at college," hecontinued; "and so with your apparatus and your cabinet. For at college,you see, you will perhaps have articles of philosophical apparatus, and acabinet of specimens, instead of playthings. I advise you, if you shouldhave such things, to keep them all nicely arranged upon their shelves."

Here James turned his chair a little, so that he and the children couldlook towards the cabinet of playthings. Walter climbed down from hiscousin's lap and ran off to that side of the room, and there began hastilyto arrange the playthings.

"Yes," said James, "that is the way. But never mind that now. I think youwill know how to arrange your philosophical instruments and your cabinetvery nicely when you are in college; and you can keep your playthings inorder in your room here, while you are a boy, if you please. But come backnow and hear the rest of the advice."

So Walter came back and took his place again upon James's knee.

"And I advise you," continued James, "to take good care of your books whenyou are in college. It is pleasanter, at the time, to use books that areclean and nice, and then, besides, you will like to take your college bookswith you, after you leave college, and keep them as long as you live, asmemorials of your early days, and you will value them a great deal more ifthey are in good order."

Here Ann opened the book which was in her hand, and began to fold back thedog's-ears and to smooth down the leaves.

_The Principle Involved_.

In a word, by the simple expedient of shifting the time, in the imaginationof the children, when the advice which he was giving them would come to itspractical application, he divested it of all appearance of fault-findingin respect to their present conduct, and so secured not merely its readyadmission, but a cordial welcome for it, in their minds.

Any mother who sees and clearly apprehends the principle here illustrated,and has ingenuity enough to avail herself of it, will find an endlessvariety of modes by which she can make use of it, to gain easy access tothe hearts of her children, for instructions and counsels which, when theycome in the form of fault-finding advice, make no impression whatever.

_Expectations of Results must be Reasonable_.

Some persons, however, who read without much reflection, and who do notclearly see the principle involved in the case above described, and do notunderstand it as it is intended--that is, as a single specimen or exampleof a mode of action capable of an endless variety of applications, willperhaps say, "Oh, that was all very well. James's talk was very good forthe purpose of amusing the children for a few minutes while he was visitingthem, but it is idle to suppose that such a conversation could produce anypermanent or even lasting impression upon them; still less, that it couldwork any effectual change in respect to their habits of order."

That is very true. In the work of forming the hearts and minds of childrenit is "line upon line, and precept upon precept" that is required; and itcan not be claimed that one such conversation as that of James is any thingmore than _one line_. But it certainly is that. It would be as unreasonableto expect that one single lesson like that could effectually and completelyaccomplish the end in view, as that one single watering of a plant willsuffice to enable it to attain completely its growth, and enable it toproduce in perfection its fruits or its flowers.

But if a mother often clothes thus the advice or instruction which she hasto give to her children in some imaginative guise like this, advising themwhat to do when they are on a journey, for example, or when they are makinga visit at the house of a friend in the country; or, in the case of a boy,what she would counsel him to do in case he were a young man employed by afarmer to help him on his farm, or a clerk in a store, or a sea-captain incharge of a ship, or a general commanding a force in the field; or, if agirl, what dangers or what undesirable habits or actions she should avoidwhen travelling in Europe, or when, as a young lady, she joins in picnicsor goes on excursions, or attends concerts or evening parties, or in any ofthe countless other situations which it is pleasant for young persons topicture to their minds, introducing into all, so far as her ingenuity andskill enable her to do it, interesting incidents and details, she will findthat she is opening to herself an avenue to her children's hearts for thesound moral principles that she wishes to inculcate upon them, which shecan often employ easily, pleasantly, and very advantageously, both toherself and to them.

When a child is sick, it may be of little consequence whether the medicinewhich is required is agreeable or disagreeable to the taste. But with moralremedies the case is different. Sometimes the whole efficiency of thetreatment administered as a corrective for a moral disorder dependsupon the readiness and willingness with which it is taken. To make itdisagreeable, consequently, in such cases, is to neutralize the intendedaction of it--a result which the methods described in this chapter greatlytend to avoid.

CHAPTER IX.

DELLA AND THE DOLLS.

This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands of persons who have,temporarily or otherwise, the charge of young children without any absoluteauthority over them, or any means, or even any right, to enforce theircommands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers or sisterreferred to in the preceding illustrations. To such persons, these indirectmodes of training children in habits of subordination to their will, orrather of yielding to their influence, are specially useful. Such personsmay be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of the children'sdolls as a means of guiding and governing their little mothers.

_Della_.

Della had a young sister named Maria, and a cousin whose name was Jane.Jane used often to come to make Maria a visit, and when together thechildren were accustomed to spend a great deal of time in playing withtheir dolls. Besides dressing and undressing them, and playing take themout to excursions and visits, they used to talk with them a great deal, andgive them much useful and valuable information and instruction.

[Illustration: ROUNDABOUT INSTRUCTION.]

Now Delia contrived to obtain a great influence and ascendency over theminds of the children by means of these dolls. She fell at once into theidea of the children in regard to them, and treated them always as if theywere real persons; often speaking of them and to them, in the presence ofthe other children, in the most serious manner. This not only pleased thechildren very much, but enabled Della, under pretense of talking to thedolls, to communicate a great deal of useful instruction to the children,and sometimes to make very salutary and lasting impressions upon theirminds.

_Lectures to the Dolls_.

For instance, sometimes when Jane was making Maria a visit, and the twochildren came into her room with their dolls in their arms, she would speakto them as if they were real persons, and then taking them in her handswould set them before her on her knee, and give them a very grave lecturein respect to the proper behavior which they were to observe during theafternoon. If Delia had attempted to give precisely the same lecture to thechildren themselves, they would very soon have become restless and uneasy,and it would have made very little impression upon them. But beingaddressed to the dolls, they would be greatly interested in it, and wouldlisten with the utmost attention; and there is no doubt that the counselsand instructions which she gave made a much stronger impression upon theirminds than if they had been addressed directly to the children themselves.To give an idea of these conversations I will report one of them in full.

"How do you do, my children?" she said, on one such occasion. "I am veryglad to see you. How nice you look! You have come, Andella (Andella was thename of Jane's doll), to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You willhave a very pleasant time, I am sure; because you never quarrel. I observethat, when you both wish for the same thing, you don't quarrel for it andtry to pull it away from one another; but one waits like a lady until theother has done with it. I expect you have been a very good girl, Andella,since you were here last."

Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered tone, "Has she beena good girl, Jane?"

"She has been a _pretty_ good girl," said Jane, "but she has been sick."

"Ah!" said Della in a tone of great concern, and looking again at Andella,"I heard that you had been sick. I heard that you had an attack of AuroraBorealis, or something like that. And you don't look very well now. Youmust take good care of yourself, and if you don't feel well, you mustask your mother to bring you in to me and I will give you a dose of mymedicine--my _aqua saccharina_. I know you always take your medicine like alittle heroine when you are sick, without making any difficulty or troubleat all."

_Aqua saccharina_ was the Latin name which Delia gave to a preparationof which she kept a supply in a small phial on her table, ready tomake-believe give to the dolls when they were sick. Maria and Jane werevery fond of playing that their dolls were sick and bringing them to Dellafor medicine, especially as Della always recommended to them to taste themedicine themselves from a spoon first, in order to set their children agood example of taking it well.

Sometimes Della would let the children take the phial away, so as to haveit always at hand in case the dolls should be taken suddenly worse. But insuch cases as this the attacks were usually so frequent, and the motherswere obliged to do so much tasting to encourage the patients, that thephial was soon brought back nearly or quite empty, when Delia used toreplenish it by filling it nearly full of water, and then pouring asufficient quantity of the saccharine powder into the mouth of it from thesugar-bowl with a spoon. Nothing more was necessary except to shake up themixture in order to facilitate the process of solution, and the medicinewas ready.

_A Medium of Reproof._

Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the purpose ofinstruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many ingenious ways. Forinstance, one day the children had been playing upon the piazza with blocksand other playthings, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all thethings on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them away in theirplaces, as they ought to have done. They were now playing with their dollsin the parlor.

Delia came to the parlor, and with an air of great mystery beckoned thechildren aside, and said to them, in a whisper, "Leave Andella and Rosaliehere, and don't say a word to them. I want you to come with me. There is asecret--something I would not have them know on any account."

So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the children out of theroom, and round by a circuitous route to the piazza.

"There!" said she, pointing to the playthings; "see! all your playthingsleft out! Put them away quick before Andella and Rosalie see them. I wouldnot have them know that their mothers leave their playthings about in thatway for any consideration. They would think that they might do so too, andthat would make you a great deal of trouble. You teach them, I have nodoubt, that they must always put their playthings away, and they must seethat you set them a good example. Put these playthings all away quick, andcarefully, and we will not let them know any thing about your leaving themout."

So the children went to work with great alacrity, and put the playthingsall away. And this method of treating the case was much more effectual inmaking them disposed to avoid committing a similar fault another time thanany direct rebukes or expressions of displeasure addressed personally tothem would have been.

Besides, a scolding would have made them unhappy, and this did not makethem unhappy at all; it amused and entertained them. If you can leadchildren to cure themselves of their faults in such a way that they shallhave a good time in doing it, there is a double gain.

In due time, by this kind of management, and by other modes conceived andexecuted in the same spirit, Bella gained so great an ascendency over thechildren that they were far more ready to conform to her will, and toobey all her directions, than they would have been to submit to the mostlegitimate authority that was maintained, as such authority too often is,by fault-finding and threats, and without any sympathy with the fancies andfeelings which reign over the hearts of the children in the little world inwhich they live.

CHAPTER X.

SYMPATHY:--1. THE CHILD WITH THE PARENT.

The subject of sympathy between children and parents is to be considered intwo aspects: first, that of the child with the parent; and secondly, thatof the parent with the child. That is to say, an emotion may be awakened inthe child by its existence and manifestation in the parent, and secondly,it may be awakened in the parent by its existence in the child.

We are all ready to acknowledge in words the great power and influenceof sympathy, but very few are aware how very vast this power is, and howinconceivably great is the function which this principle fulfills in theformation of the human character, and in regulating the conduct of men.

_Mysterious Action of the Principle of Sympathy_.

There is a great mystery in the nature of it, and in the manner of itsaction. This we see very clearly in the simplest and most striking materialform of it--the act of gaping. Why and how does the witnessing of the actof gaping in one person, or even the thought of it, produce a tendencyto the same action in the nerves and muscles of another person? When weattempt to trace the chain of connection through the eye, the brain, andthe thoughts--through which line of agencies the chain of cause and effectmust necessarily run--we are lost and bewildered.

Other states and conditions in which the mental element is more apparentare communicated from one to another in the same or, at least, in someanalogous way. Being simply in the presence of one who is amused, or happy,or sad, causes us to feel amused, or happy, or sad ourselves--or, at least,has that tendency--even if we do not know from what cause the emotion whichis communicated to us proceeds. A person of a joyous and happy dispositionoften brightens up at once any little circle into which he enters, whilea morose and melancholy man carries gloom with him wherever he goes.Eloquence, which, if we were to hear it addressed to us personally andindividually, in private conversation, would move us very little, willexcite us to a pitch of the highest enthusiasm if we hear it in the midstof a vast audience; even though the words, and the gestures, and theinflections of the voice, and the force with which it reaches our ears,were to be precisely the same in the two cases. And so a joke, which wouldproduce only a quiet smile if we read it by ourselves at the firesidealone, will evoke convulsions of laughter when heard in a crowded theatre,where the hilarity is shared by thousands.

A new element, indeed, seems to come into action in these last two cases;for the mental condition of one mind is not only communicated to another,but it appears to be increased and intensified by the communication. Eachdoes not feel _merely_ the enthusiasm or the mirth which would naturallybe felt by the other, but the general emotion is vastly heightened by itsbeing so largely shared. It is like the case of the live coal, which doesnot merely set the dead coal on fire by being placed in contact with it,but the two together, when together, burn far more brightly than whenapart.

_Wonderful Power of Sympathy_.

So much for the reality of this principle; and it is almost impossibleto exaggerate the extent and the magnitude of the influence it exerts informing the character and shaping the ideas and opinions of men, and inregulating all their ordinary habits of thought and feeling. People'sopinions are not generally formed or controlled by arguments or reasonings,as they fondly suppose. They are imbibed by sympathy from those whom theylike or love, and who are, or have been, their associates. Thus people,when they arrive at maturity, adhere in the main to the associations, bothin religion and in politics, in which they have been brought up, from theinfluence of sympathy with those whom they love. They believe in this orthat doctrine or system, not because they have been convinced by proof,but chiefly because those whom they love believe in them. On religiousquestions the arguments are presented to them, it is true, while they areyoung, in catechisms and in other forms of religious instruction, and inpolitics by the conversations which they overhear; but it is a mistake tosuppose that arguments thus offered have any material effect as processesof ratiocination in producing any logical conviction upon their minds. AnEnglish boy is Whig or Tory because his father, and his brothers, and hisuncles are Whigs or Tories. He may, indeed, have many arguments at hiscommand with which to maintain his opinions, but it is not the force of thearguments that has convinced him, nor do they have any force as a means ofconvincing the other boys to whom he offers them. _They_ are controlled bytheir sympathies, as he is by his. But if he is a popular boy, and makeshimself a favorite among his companions, the very fact that he is of thisor that party will have more effect upon the other boys than the mostlogical and conclusive trains of reasoning that can be conceived.

So it is with the religious and political differences in this and in everyother country. Every one's opinions--or rather the opinion of people ingeneral, for of course there are many individual exceptions--are formedfrom sympathy with those with whom in mind and heart they have been infriendly communication during their years of childhood and youth. And evenin those cases where persons change their religious opinions in adult age,the explanation of the mystery is generally to be found, not in seeking forthe _argument that convinced them_, but for the _person that led them_,in the accomplishment of the change. For such changes can very often, andperhaps generally, be traced to some person or persons whose influence overthem, if carefully scrutinized, would be found to consist really not in theforce of the arguments they offered, but in the magic power of a silent andperhaps unconscious sympathy. The way, therefore, to convert people to ourideas and opinions is to make them like us or love us, and then to avoidarguing with them, but simply let them perceive what our ideas and opinionsare.

The well-known proverb, "Example is better than precept," is only anotherform of expressing the predominating power of sympathy; for example canhave little influence except so far as a sympathetic feeling in theobserver leads him to imitate it. So that, example is better than preceptmeans only that sympathy has more influence in the human heart thanreasoning.

_The Power of Sympathy in Childhood_.

This principle, so powerful at every period of life, is at its maximumin childhood. It is the origin, in a very great degree, of the spirit ofimitation which forms so remarkable a characteristic of the first yearsof life. The child's thoughts and feelings being spontaneously drawn intoharmony with the thoughts and feelings of those around him whom he loves,leads, of course, to a reproduction of their actions, and the prevalenceand universality of the effect shows how constant and how powerful is thecause. So the great secret of success for a mother, in the formation of thecharacter of her children, is to make her children respect and love her,and then simply to _be_ herself what she wishes them to be.

And to make them respect and love her, is to control them by a firmgovernment where control is required, and to indulge them almost withoutlimit where indulgence will do no harm.

_Special Application of the Principle_.

But besides this general effect of the principle of sympathy in aidingparents in forming the minds and hearts of their children, there are agreat many cases in which a father or mother who understands the secret ofits wonderful and almost magic power can avail themselves of it to producespecial effects. One or two examples will show more clearly what I mean.

William's aunt Maria came to pay his mother a visit in the village whereWilliam's mother lived. On the same day she went to take a walk withWilliam--who is about nine years old--to see the village. As they wentalong together upon the sidewalk, they came to two small boys who weretrying to fly a kite. One of the boys was standing upon the sidewalk,embarrassed a little by some entanglement of the string.

"Here, you fellow!" said William, as he and his aunt approached the spot,"get out of the way with your kite, and let us go by."

The boy hurried out of the way, and, in so doing, got his kite-string moreentangled still in the branches of a tree which grew at the margin of thesidewalk.

Now William's aunt might have taken the occasion, as she and her nephewwalked along, to give him some kind and friendly instruction or counselabout the duty of being kind to every body in any difficulty, trouble, orperplexity, whether they are young or old; showing him how we increase thegeneral sum of happiness in so doing, and how we feel happier ourselveswhen we have done good to any one, than when we have increased in any way,or even slighted or disregarded, their troubles. How William would receivesuch a lecture would depend a great deal upon his disposition and state ofmind. But in most cases such counsels, given at such a time, involving, asthey would, some covert though very gentle censure, would cause the heartof the boy to close itself in a greater or less degree against them, likethe leaves of a sensitive-plant shrinking from the touch. The reply wouldvery probably be, "Well, he had no business to be on the sidewalk, right inour way."

William and his aunt walked on a few steps. His aunt then stopped,hesitatingly, and said,

"How would it do to go back and help that boy disentangle his kite-string?He's a little fellow, and does not know so much about kites andkite-strings as you do."

Here the suggestion of giving help to perplexity and distress cameassociated with a compliment instead of what implied censure, and theleaves of the sensitive-plant expanded at once, and widely, to the genialinfluence.

"Yes," said William; "let's go."

So his aunt turned and went back a step or two, and then said, "You can goand do it without me. I'll wait here till you come back. I don't supposeyou want any help from me. If you do, I'll come."

"No," aid William, "I can do it alone."

So William ran on with great alacrity to help the boys clear the string,and then came back with a beaming face to his aunt, and they walked on.

William's aunt made no further allusion to the affair until the end ofthe walk, and then, on entering the gate, she said, "We have had a verypleasant walk, and you have taken very good care of me. And I am glad wehelped those boys out of their trouble with the kite."

"So am I," said William.

_Analysis of the Incident_.

Now it is possible that some one may say that William was wrong in hisharsh treatment of the boys, or at least in his want of consideration fortheir perplexity; and that his aunt, by her mode of treating the case,covered up the wrong, when it ought to have been brought distinctly to viewand openly amended. But when we come to analyze the case, we shall findthat it is not at all certain that there was any thing wrong on William'spart in the transaction, so far as the state of his heart, in a moral pointof view, is concerned. All such incidents are very complicated in theirnature, and in their bearings and relations. They present many aspectswhich vary according to the point of view from which they are regarded.Even grown people do not always see all the different aspects of an affairin respect to which they are called upon to act or to form an opinion, andchildren, perhaps, never; and in judging their conduct, we must alwaysconsider the aspect in which the action is presented to their minds. Inthis case, William was thinking only of his aunt. He wished to make herwalk convenient and agreeable to her. The boy disentangling his string onthe sidewalk was to him, at that time, simply an obstacle in his aunt'sway, and he dealt with it as such, sending the boy off as an act ofkindness and attention to his aunt solely. The idea of a sentient beingsuffering distress which he might either increase by harshness or relieveby help was not present in his mind at all. We may say that he oughtto have thought of this. But a youthful mind, still imperfect in itsdevelopment, can not be expected to take cognizance at once of all theaspects of a transaction which tends in different directions to differentresults. It is true, that he ought to have thought of the distress of theboys, if we mean that he ought to be taught or trained to think of suchdistress when he witnessed it; and that was exactly what his aunt wasendeavoring to do. We ourselves have learned, by long experience of life,to perceive at once the many different aspects which an affair may present,and the many different results which may flow in various directions fromthe same action; and we often inconsiderately blame children, simplybecause their minds are yet so imperfectly developed that they can not takesimultaneous cognizance of more than one or two of them. This is the truephilosophy of most of what is called heedlessness in children, and forwhich, poor things, they receive so many harsh reprimands and so muchpunishment.

A little girl, for example, undertakes to water her sister's plants. In herpraiseworthy desire to do her work well and thoroughly, she fills the mugtoo full, and spills the water upon some books that are lying upon thetable. The explanation of the misfortune is simply that her mind wasfilled, completely filled, with the thoughts of helping her sister. Thethought of the possibility of spilling the water did not come into it atall. There was no room for it while the other thought, so engrossing, wasthere; and to say that she _ought_ to have thought of both the resultswhich might follow her action, is only to say that she ought to be older.

_Sympathy as the Origin of childish Fears_.

The power of sympathy in the mind of a child--that is, its tendencyto imbibe the opinions or sentiments manifested by others in theirpresence--may be made very effectual, not only in inculcating principles ofright and wrong, but in relation to every other idea or emotion. Childrenare afraid of thunder and lightning, or of robbers at night, or of ghosts,because they perceive that their parents, or older brothers or sisters, areafraid of them. Where the parents do not believe in ghosts, the childrenare not afraid of them; unless, indeed, there are domestics in the house,or playmates at school, or other companions from whom they take thecontagion. So, what they see that their parents value they prizethemselves. They imbibe from their playmates at school a very largeproportion of their tastes, their opinions, and their ideas, not througharguments or reasoning, but from sympathy; and most of the wrong or foolishnotions of any kind that they have acquired have not been established intheir minds by false reasoning, but have been taken by sympathy, as adisease is communicated by infection; and the remedy is in most cases, notreasoning, but a countervailing sympathy.

_Afraid of a Kitten_.

Little Jane was very much afraid of a kitten which her brother broughthome--the first that she had known. She had, however, seen a picture of atiger or some other feline animal devouring a man in a forest, and hadbeen frightened by it; and she had heard too, perhaps, of children beingscratched by cats or kittens. So, when the kitten was brought in and putdown on the floor, she ran to her sister in great terror, and began to cry.

Now her sister might have attempted to reason with her by explaining thedifference between the kitten and the wild animals of the same class in thewoods, and by assuring her that thousands of children have kittens to playwith and are never scratched by them so long as they treat them kindly--andall without producing any sensible effect. But, instead of this, sheadopted a different plan. She took the child up into her lap, and afterquieting her fears, began to talk to the kitten.

"Poor little pussy," said she, "I am glad you have come. You never scratchany body, I am sure, if they are kind to you. Jennie will give you somemilk some day, and she and I will like to see you lap it up with yourpretty little tongue. And we will give you a ball to play with some dayupon the carpet. See, Jennie, see! She is going to lie down upon the rug.She is glad that she has come to such a nice home. Now she is putting herhead down, but she has not any pillow to lay it upon. Wouldn't you like apillow, kitty? Jennie will make you a pillow some day, I am sure, if youwould like one. Jennie is beginning to learn to sew, and she could make youa nice pillow, and stuff it with cotton wool. Then we can see you lyingdown upon the rug, with the pillow under your head that Jennie will havemade for you--all comfortable."

Such a talk as this, though it could not be expected entirely and at onceto dispel Jennie's unfounded fears, would be far more effectual towardsbeginning the desired change than any arguments or reasoning could possiblybe.

Any mother who will reflect upon the principle here explained will at oncerecall to mind many examples and illustrations of its power over the heartsand minds of children which her own experience has afforded. And if shebegins practically and systematically to appeal to it, she will findherself in possession of a new element of power--new, at least, to herrealization--the exercise of which will be as easy and agreeable to herselfas it will be effective in its influence over her children.

CHAPTER XI.

SYMPATHY:--II. THE PARENT WITH THE CHILD.

I think there can be no doubt that the most effectual way of securing theconfidence and love of children, and of acquiring an ascendency over them,is by sympathizing with them in their child-like hopes and fears, and joysand sorrows--in their ideas, their fancies, and even in their caprices, inall cases where duty is not concerned. Indeed, the more child-like, thatis, the more peculiar to the children themselves, the feelings are that weenter into with them, the closer is the bond of kindness and affection thatis formed.

_An Example_.

If a gentleman coming to reside in a new town concludes that it isdesirable that he should be on good terms with the boys in the streets,there are various ways by which he can seek to accomplish the end.Fortunately for him, the simplest and easiest mode is the most effectual.On going into the village one day, we will suppose he sees two small boysplaying horse. One boy is horse, and the other driver. As they draw near,they check the play a little, to be more decorous in passing by thestranger. He stops to look at them with a pleased expression ofcountenance, and then says, addressing the driver, with a face of muchseriousness, "That's a first-rate horse of yours. Would you like to sellhim? He seems to be very spirited." The horse immediately begins to pranceand caper. "You must have paid a high price for him. You must take goodcare of him. Give him plenty of oats, and don't drive him hard when it ishot weather. And if ever you conclude to sell him, I wish you would let meknow."

So saying, the gentleman walks on, and the horse, followed by his driver,goes galloping forward in high glee.

Now, by simply manifesting thus a fellow-feeling with the boys in theirchildish play, the stranger not only gives a fresh impulse to theirenjoyment at the time, but establishes a friendly relationship between themand him which, without his doing any thing to strengthen or perpetuate it,will of itself endure for a long time. If he does not speak to the boysagain for months, every time they meet him they will be ready to greet himwith a smile.

The incident will go much farther towards establishing friendly relationsbetween him and them than any presents that he could make them--except sofar as his presents were of such a kind, and were given in such a way, asto be expressions of kindly feeling towards them--that is to say, such asto constitute of themselves a manifestation of sympathy.

The uncle who gives his nephews and nieces presents, let them be ever socostly or beautiful, and takes no interest in their affairs, never inspiresthem with any feeling of personal affection. They like him as they like theapple-tree which bears them sweet and juicy apples, or the cow that givesthem milk--which is on their part a very different sentiment from thatwhich they feel for the kitten that plays with them and shares theirjoys--or even for their dolls, which are only pictured in their imaginationas sharing them.

_Sophronia and Aurelia_.

Miss Sophronia calls at a house to make a visit. A child of seven or eightyears of age is playing upon the floor. After a little time, at a pausein the conversation, she calls the child--addressing her as "My littlegirl"--to come to her. The child--a shade being cast over her mind by beingthus unnecessarily reminded of her littleness--hesitates to come. Themother says, "Come and shake hands with the lady, my dear!" The child comesreluctantly. Miss Sophronia asks what her name is, how old she is, whethershe goes to school, what she studies there, and whether she likes to go toschool, and at length releases her. The child, only too glad to be freefrom such a tiresome visitor, goes back to her play, and afterwards theonly ideas she has associated with the person of her visitor are thoserelating to her school and her lessons, which may or may not be of anagreeable character.

Presently, after Miss Sophronia has gone, Miss Aurelia comes in. After someconversation with the mother, she goes to see what the child is buildingwith her blocks. After looking on for a moment with an expression ofinterest in her countenance, she asks her if she has a doll. The child saysshe has four. Miss Aurelia then asks which she likes best, and expresses adesire to see that one. The child, much pleased, runs away to bring it, andpresently comes back with all four. Miss Aurelia takes them in her hands,examines them, talks about them, and talks to them; and when at last thechild goes back to her play, she goes with the feeling in her heart thatshe has found a new friend.

Thus, to bring ourselves near to the hearts of children, we must go to themby entering into _their world_. They can not come to us by entering ours.They have no experience of it, and can not understand it. But we have hadexperience of theirs, and can enter it if we choose; and in that way webring ourselves very near to them.

_Sympathy must be Sincere_.

But the sympathy which we thus express with children, in order to beeffectual, must be sincere and genuine, and not pretended. We must renewour own childish ideas and imaginations, and become for the moment, infeeling, one with them, so that the interest which we express in what theyare saying or doing may be real, and not merely assumed. They seem to havea natural instinct to distinguish between an honest and actual sharingof their thoughts and emotions, and all mere condescension and pretense,however adroitly it may be disguised.

_Want of Time_.

Some mothers may perhaps say that they have not time thus to enter intothe ideas and occupations of their children. They are engrossed with theserious cares of life, or busy with its various occupations. But it doesnot require time. It is not a question of time, but of manner. The farmer'swife, for example, is busy ironing, or sewing, or preparing breakfast forher husband and sons, who are expected every moment to come in hungry fromtheir work. Her little daughter, ten years old, comes to show her a shawlshe has been making from a piece of calico for her doll. The busymother thinks she must say, "Yes; but run away now, Mary; I am verybusy!"--because that is the easiest and quickest thing to say; but it isjust as easy and just as quick to say, "What a pretty shawl! Play now thatyou are going to take Minette out for a walk in it!" The one mode sends thechild away repulsed and a little disappointed; the other pleases her andmakes her happy, and tends, moreover, to form a new bond of union andsympathy between her mother's heart and her own. A merchant, engrossed allday in his business, comes home to his house at dinner-time, and meets hisboy of fifteen on the steps returning from his school. "Well, James," hesays, as they walk together up stairs, "I hope you have been a good boy atschool to-day." James, not knowing what to say, makes some inaudible orunmeaning reply. His father then goes on to say that he hopes his boy willbe diligent and attentive to his studies, and improve his time well, ashis future success in life will depend upon the use which he makes ofhis advantages while he is young; and then leaves him at the head of thestairs, each to go to his room.

All this is very well. Advice given under such circumstances and in such away produces, undoubtedly, a certain good effect, but it does not tend atall to bring the father and son together. But if, instead of giving thiscommon-place advice, the father asks--supposing it to be winter at thetime--"Which kind of skates are the most popular among the boys nowadays,James?" Then, after hearing his reply, he asks him what _his_ opinion is,and whether any great improvement has been made within a short time, andwhether the patent inventions are any of them of much consequence. Thetendency of such a conversation as this, equally brief with the other, willbe to draw the father and son more together. Even in a moral point of view,the influence would be, indirectly, very salutary; for although no moralcounsel or instruction was given at the time, the effect of such aparticipation in the thoughts with which the boy's mind is occupied is tostrengthen the bond of union between the heart of the boy and that of hisfather, and thus to make the boy far more ready to receive and be guided bythe advice or admonitions of his father on other occasions.

Let no one suppose, from these illustrations, that they are intended toinculcate the idea that a father is to lay aside the parental counselsand instructions that he has been accustomed to give to his children, andreplace them by talks about skates! They are only intended to showone aspect of the difference of effect produced by the two kinds ofconversation, and that the father, if he wishes to gain and retain aninfluence over the hearts of his boys, must descend sometimes into theworld in which they live, and with which their thoughts are occupied,and must enter it, not merely as a spectator, or a fault-finder, or acounsellor, but as a sharer, to some extent, in the ideas and feelingswhich are appropriate to it.

_Ascendency over the Minds of Children_.

Sympathizing with children in their own pleasures and enjoyments, howeverchildish they may seem to us when we do not regard them, as it were, withchildren's eyes, is, perhaps, the most powerful of all the means at ourcommand for gaining a powerful ascendency over them. This will lead us notto interfere with their own plans and ideas, but to be willing that theyshould be happy in their own way. In respect to their duties, thoseconnected, for example, with their studies, their serious employments,and their compliance with directions of any kind emanating from superiorauthority, of course their will must be under absolute subjection to thatof those who are older and wiser than they. In all such things they mustbring their thoughts and actions into accord with ours. In these thingsthey must come to us, not we to them. But in every thing that relatesto their child-like pleasures and joys, their modes of recreation andamusement, their playful explorations of the mysteries of things, and thevarious novelties around them in the strange world into which they findthemselves ushered--in all these things we must not attempt to bring themto us, but must go to them. In this, their own sphere, the more perfectlythey are at liberty, the better; and if we join them in it at all, we mustdo so by bringing our ideas and wishes into accord with theirs.

_Foolish Fears_.

The effect of our sympathy with children in winning their confidence andlove, is all the more powerful when it is exercised in cases where they arenaturally inclined not to expect sympathy--that is, in relation to feelingswhich they would suppose that older persons would be inclined to condemn.Perhaps the most striking example of this is in what is commonly calledfoolish fears. Now a fear is foolish or otherwise, not according to theabsolute facts involving the supposed danger, but according to the meanswhich the person in question has of knowing the facts. A lady, for example,in passing along the sidewalk of a great city comes to a place whereworkmen are raising an immense and ponderous iron safe, which, slowlyrising, hangs suspended twenty feet above the walk. She is afraid to passunder it. The foreman, however, who is engaged in directing the operation,passing freely to and fro under the impending weight, as he has occasion,and without the least concern, smiles, perhaps, at the lady's "foolishfears." But the fears which might, perhaps, be foolish in him, are not soin her, since he _knows_ the nature and the strength of the machineryand securities above, and she does not. She only knows that accidents dosometimes happen from want of due precaution in raising heavy weights, andshe does not know, and has no means of knowing, whether or not the dueprecautions have been taken in this case. So she manifests good sense, andnot folly, in going out of her way to avoid all possibility of danger.

This is really the proper explanation of a large class of what are usuallytermed foolish fears. Viewed in the light of the individual's knowledge ofthe facts in the case, they are sensible fears, and not foolish ones atall.

A girl of twelve, from the city, spending the summer in the country, wishesto go down to the river to join her brothers there, but is stopped byobserving a cow in a field which she has to cross. She comes back to thehouse, and is there laughed at for her foolishness in being; "afraid of acow!"

But why should she not be afraid of a cow? She has heard stories of peoplebeing gored by bulls, and sometimes by cows, and she has no means whateverof estimating the reality or the extent of the danger in any particularcase. The farmer's daughters, however, who laugh at her, know the cow inquestion perfectly well. They have milked her, and fed her, and tied her upto her manger a hundred times; so, while it would be a very foolish thingfor them to be afraid to cross a field where the cow was feeding, it is avery sensible thing for the stranger-girl from the city to be so.

Nor would it certainly change the case much for the child, if the farmer'sgirls were to assure her that the cow was perfectly peaceable, and thatthere was no danger; for she does not know the girls any better than shedoes the cow, and can not judge how far their statements or opinions are tobe relied upon. It may possibly not be the cow they think it is. They arevery positive, it is true; but very positive people are often mistaken.Besides, the cow may be peaceable with them, and yet be disposed to attacka stranger. What a child requires in such a case is sympathy and help, notridicule.

[Illustration: AFRAID OF THE COW.]

This, in the case supposed, she meets in the form of the farmer's son, ayoung man browned in face and plain in attire, who comes along while shestands loitering at the fence looking at the cow, and not daring after all,notwithstanding the assurances she has received at the house, to crossthe field. His name is Joseph, and he is a natural gentleman--a class ofpersons of whom a much larger number is found in this humble guise, and amuch smaller number in proportion among the fashionables in elegant life,than is often supposed. "Yes," says Joseph, after hearing the child'sstatement of the case, "you are right. Cows are sometimes vicious, I know;and you are perfectly right to be on your guard against such as you do notknow when you meet them in the country. This one, as it happens, is verykind; but still, I will go through the field with you."

So he goes with her through the field, stopping on the way to talk a littleto the cow, and to feed her with an apple which he has in his pocket.

It is in this spirit that the fears, and antipathies, and falseimaginations of children are generally to be dealt with; though, of course,there may be many exceptions to the general rule.

_When Children are in the Wrong_.

There is a certain sense in which we should feel a sympathy with childrenin the wrong that they do. It would seem paradoxical to say that in anysense there should be sympathy with sin, and yet there is a sense in whichthis is true, though perhaps, strictly speaking, it is sympathy with thetrial and temptation which led to the sin, rather than with the act oftransgression itself. In whatever light a nice metaphysical analysis wouldlead us to regard it, it is certain that the most successful efforts thathave been made by philanthropists for reaching the hearts and reforming theconduct of criminals and malefactors have been prompted by a feeling ofcompassion for them, not merely for the sorrows and sufferings which theyhave brought upon themselves by their wrongdoing, but for the mentalconflicts which they endured, the fierce impulses of appetite and passion,more or less connected with and dependent upon the material condition ofthe bodily organs, under the onset of which their feeble moral sense, neverreally brought into a condition of health and vigor, was over-borne. Thesemerciful views of the diseased condition and action of the soul in thecommission of crime are not only in themselves right views for man to takeof the crimes and sins of his fellow-man, but they lie at the foundation ofall effort that can afford any serious hope of promoting reformation.

This principle is eminently true in its application to children. They needthe influence of a kind and considerate sympathy when they have done wrong,more, perhaps, than at any other time; and the effects of the propermanifestation of this sympathy on the part of the mother will, perhaps, begreater and more salutary in this case than in any other. Of course thesympathy must be of the right kind, and must be expressed in the right way,so as not to allow the tenderness or compassion for the wrong-doer to bemistaken for approval or justification of the wrong.

_Case supposed_.

A boy, for instance, comes home from school in a state of great distress,and perhaps of indignation and resentment, on account of having beenpunished. Mothers sometimes say at once, in such a case, "I don't pity youat all. I have no doubt you deserved it." This only increases the tumult ofcommotion in the boy's mind, without at all tending to help him to feel asense of his guilt. His mind, still imperfectly developed, can not takecognizance simultaneously of all the parts and all the aspects of acomplicated transaction. The sense of his wrong-doing, which forms in histeacher's and in his mother's mind so essential a part of the transaction,is not present in his conceptions at all. There is no room for it, sototally engrossed are all his faculties with the stinging recollections ofsuffering, the tumultuous emotions of anger and resentment, and now withthe additional thought that even his mother has taken part against him. Themother's conception of the transaction is equally limited and imperfect,though in a different way. She thinks only that if she were to treat thechild with kindness and sympathy, she would be taking the part of a bad boyagainst his teacher; whereas, in reality, she might do it in such a way asonly to be taking the part of a suffering boy against his pain.

It would seem that the true and proper course for a mother to take witha child in such a case would be to soothe and calm his agitation, and tolisten, if need be, to his account of the affair, without questioningor controverting it at all, however plainly she may see that, under theblinding and distorting influence of his excitement, he is misrepresentingthe facts. Let him tell his story. Listen to it patiently to the end. It isnot necessary to express or even to form an opinion on the merits of it.The ready and willing hearing of one side of a case does not commit thetribunal to a decision in favor of that side. On the other hand, it is theonly way to give weight and a sense of impartiality to a decision againstit.

Thus the mother may sympathize with her boy in his troubles, appreciatefully the force of the circumstances which led him into the wrong, and helpto soothe and calm his agitation, and thus take his part, and place herselfclosely to him in respect to his suffering, without committing herself atall in regard to the original cause of it; and then, at a subsequent time,when the tumult of his soul has subsided, she can, if she thinks best, farmore easily and effectually lead him to see wherein he was wrong.

CHAPTER XII.

COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT.

We are very apt to imagine that the disposition to do right is, or ought tobe, the natural and normal condition of childhood, and that doing wrong issomething unnatural and exceptional with children. As a consequence, whenthey do right we think there is nothing to be said. That is, or ought tobe, a matter of course. It is only when they do wrong that we noticetheir conduct, and then, of course, with censure and reproaches. Thus ourdiscipline consists mainly, not in gently leading and encouraging them inthe right way, but in deterring them, by fault-finding and punishment, fromgoing wrong.

Now we ought not to forget that in respect to moral conduct as well as tomental attainments children know nothing when they come into the world, buthave every thing to learn, either from the instructions or from theexample of those around them. We do not propose to enter at all into theconsideration of the various theological and metaphysical theories held bydifferent classes of philosophers in respect to the native constitutionand original tendencies of the human soul, but to look at the phenomenaof mental and moral action in a plain and practical way, as they presentthemselves to the observation of mothers in the every-day walks of life.And in order the better to avoid any complication with these theories, wewill take first an extremely simple case, namely, the fault of making toomuch noise in opening and shutting the door in going in and out of a room.Georgie and Charlie are two boys, both about five years old, and both proneto the same fault. We will suppose that their mothers take oppositemethods to correct them; Georgie's mother depending upon the influence ofcommendation and encouragement when he does right, and Charlie's, upon theefficacy of reproaches and punishments when he does wrong.

_One Method_.

Georgie, eager to ask his mother some question, or to obtain somepermission in respect to his play, bursts into her room some morning withgreat noise, opening and shutting the door violently, and making muchdisturbance. In a certain sense he is not to blame for this, for he iswholly unconscious of the disturbance he makes. The entire cognizantcapacity of his mind is occupied with the object of his request. He notonly had no intention of doing any harm, but has no idea of his having doneany.

His mother takes no notice of the noise he made, but answers his question,and he goes away making almost as much noise in going out as he did incoming in.

The next time he comes in it happens--entirely by accident, we willsuppose--that he makes a little less noise than before. This furnishes hismother with her opportunity.

"Georgie," she says, "I see you are improving."

"Improving?" repeats Georgie, not knowing to what his mother refers.

"Yes," said his mother; "you are improving, in coming into the room withoutmaking a noise by opening and shutting the door. You did not make nearlyas much noise this time as you did before when you came in. Some boys,